Eonar's Gift
by Angelikah
Summary: Though the ancient legend of the king and queen of dragons may not be the type of fairytale you tell your children as you lay them down to bed, the sad truth is that love is rarely easy, and the greatest love stories tend to be the ones with the most uneven path.
1. Part I: The Hall of Scrolls

A/N: Hello again! This is for Lynyrd Lionheart as a combination-ish birthday gift and for her donation to Klaroline Gives Back a bajillion years ago. This story is dark and will contain torture and slavery (not between Klaus and Caroline, but from others to them) and some angst on the way to the happy ending. If that will bother you, do not read it. This story is loosely inspired by a piece of lore from the Warcraft universe, but I've changed it _a lot_ and pushed it at two people who both have no familiarity with it. They have both told me it's very easy to follow.

I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 _"It is the fires within that burn the brightest."_

* * *

 _70,000 years ago..._

"I can assure you all that you're perfectly safe. We simply must reinforce the barriers earlier than we were anticipating..."

Klaus suppressed a frustrated sigh as he watched the elder drone on and on. He knew the entire flight was aware that they weren't safe at all, and everyone's determination to ignore it was infuriating enough that he'd nearly developed a muscle twitch in his jaw.

Despite the threat they were facing, the flight seemed to listen to the elders without question, and he found himself running out of patience. The elders had lived since the creation of the world, and most of the flight seemed to believe that their age brought enough wisdom to make them infallible. Klaus, however, found many of them to be closed-minded and stubborn, something that hindered the flight greatly when facing threats to their kind. If he were to try to find sympathy, he could say that they'd never had a threat like Mikael before, but he honestly wasn't all that interested in making excuses for the passive idiots that called themselves leaders.

According to the legends, Mikael had consumed a whelpling for insolence and found that the meat of the dragon made him stronger. He developed an insatiable hunger for the power granted by making meals of his fellow dragons, and with each that he consumed, he grew in size and strength. However, with each whelpling that he ate, his soul became twisted, and the corruption drove him insane.

Klaus had no need for legends to know that truth.

Mikael's own children were some of the first victims of his madness; Klaus was the only one who escaped. Eventually Mikael became insatiable enough that he'd simply consume anything in his path, and the entire population had been confined to the tower for the last century and a half because of it.

No one was allowed out alone; the dragons had lost too many whelplings already. The elders had found a way to place a barrier around the temple the flight lived in, protecting them from Mikael. However, that also meant that Mikael was hungry and constantly circling the edge between hunting other prey, waiting for someone foolhardy enough to tempt fate by leaving the safety of the tower walls. Because of the containment, there was very little room to transform, and without access to their dragon forms they couldn't produce eggs.

The flight spent their time confined, living in fear, staying in their human forms for safety. The elders seemed content to keep things as they were. By reinforcing the barrier every decade or so, Mikael was kept out, and as long as the population remained static, they didn't seem willing to risk losing lives to neutralize him as a threat.

Klaus was not satisfied with that outlook. He had lost his siblings to Mikael's appetite for power, and he'd vowed to himself that he would not rest until he avenged them. He spent most of his time in the Hall of Scrolls trying to gather knowledge that could help him, reading the tales of the titans who had created all that lived on Azeroth. Fascinated by their power, he hunted a way to create it for himself, knowing it would help him defeat his father.

Though he'd brought more than a few ideas to the elders, they'd all been shot down before he could finish his explanation. Since the last incident he'd decided to take a different view of the problem. The elders had to go.

The meeting finally ended, and he immediately made his way to the Hall of Scrolls to continue his research on how to neutralize Mikael, as well as ways to subdue the elders. There was no plan for succession, as no dragons had died of old age so far, so he'd either have to get enough of the flight on his side to convince them to step down or orchestrate an accident that left an elder in charge who was more receptive to his ideas.

He always felt even more frustrated and irritated after attending a meeting for a few hours watching the rest of the flight agree with the elders with nods or apathetic shrugs, seemingly unable to grasp the seriousness of the situation. All it ever did was motivate him more to get them out of the way in whatever way possible so that he could kill his father.

When he arrived, he was met with the familiar face of a girl he'd admired from afar for half a century now, resisting the urge to approach her out of the knowledge that he couldn't let anything distract him from his goal. He'd asked Stefan about her before, knowing he wasn't being at all subtle but unable to stifle his curiosity. Stefan had told him that she was just a fledgling, only having been been born a few years before the containment.

Her name was Caroline.

 _Caroline..._

Through a few more probing questions and some observation, he'd grown more taken with her from listening to her talk, her quick wit and keen mind something that made him pause. He'd overheard her express an interest in fighting Mikael before, had been tempted to invite her to research with him, but knew that the temptation to take breaks to get to know her just a _bit_ better would be too great.

Instead he often spent the meetings watching her, admiring how her hips swayed as she shifted her weight boredly from foot to foot, her full lips pulled in a slight pout. There was nothing more interesting to do, after all, though even if there had been, he wasn't sure he would have paid attention. This time she'd snuck out of the meeting halfway through, her dress hugging her figure enticingly, a frown marring her pretty face that he wanted to smooth. Now, here she was reading a scroll in his favorite chair.

She looked up when he entered, holding eye contact for a few moments longer than was socially acceptable for strangers, a flash of uncertainty in her eyes before it cleared and she looked back down, beginning to read again.

He was tempted to tell her to find a different chair because it was _his_ , but something made him pause before he could get the words out. It was strangely satisfying to see her resting in what he thought of as his space. He would have told any other person to move, but he wanted to keep her, wanted to hoard her in his clutches until she was too comfortable there to leave.

He decided that he could have two favorite chairs.

 **XXX**

Caroline had always been curious about Niklaus the Scholar. She knew only what the rest of the flight told her, most of which she suspected was just hearsay. He was notoriously short-tempered, and from what she'd gathered from snippets of gossip the name was a bit of a misnomer.

He was one of the oldest dragons, but not old enough to be an elder, and the only surviving child of Mikael. According to Hayley, he had devoted every spare moment since the death of his siblings seeking revenge, researching ways to kill his father. It wasn't a hunger for knowledge, but for battle. For power.

Still, their goals aligned. She wanted to be able to leave the tower and explore the world, to see the forests of Sholazar that stretched for as far as she could see. She'd only seen the trees in pictures, but she desperately wanted to know if they were as beautiful as she'd been told. She wanted to feel wind and rain and see what warmth from the sun would feel like.

And she wanted to fly.

The only way she'd be able to leave the tower was to kill Mikael, and if she had to ally with a man that she knew everyone was wary of crossing, she would. From what she'd gathered so far, he didn't seem to mind her presence, either. The first day she'd come, when she sat down in the comfortable chair by the shelves, he'd given her a look that briefly made fear creep in her stomach before he'd relaxed, something seeming to click into place behind his eyes. Something like satisfaction.

And she could always feel him watching her.

He snuck glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking, but when she did occasionally make eye contact in return he didn't look away, holding her gaze with greedy eyes that made her cheeks heat. Before too long she found herself seeking those moments out.

He was always silent, but every movement he made screamed power, the way he sat, the way he walked...something drew her to him in a way that she found difficult to articulate when she was twisted in her sheets at night, frustrated with herself for being so attracted to a man she'd never even spoken to.

A spur of the moment decision made her decide to change that, the visual of his tongue skating over his lips as he chanced a glance at her before turning back to his scroll.

"Can I see what you're reading?" she asked.

His eyes flicked up from the scroll to meet hers, and he didn't speak for a few seconds. Her heart was pounding, a flush creeping up her cheeks, and she wondered whether she'd misinterpreted his signals. And then he spoke, his voice rough and laced with the light accent that seemed to come with the Old Ones.

"Of course, love."

She stood, unable to fight off the feeling that she was walking into some sort of trap. Her fingers brushed his as she took the scroll from his hand, the warmth of his hand shocking her for a moment before she pulled back with the scroll, and she swallowed audibly as she looked down at the runes. They were stark against the parchment, jagged and clear, and they had cramped handwriting beside them that was clearly his half-complete translation.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'm translating a scroll from Titanic Runes. I believe that it's a common version of a myth regarding Eonar."

"The Queen of the Pantheon?"

"Yes," he said easily, leaning back in his seat in a casual display of the predatory nature she'd been warned about. "The stories are fascinating, really. Quite a lot of information about the ancient magic they employ, as well as some vague references to how to harness the natural power wells present in the area."

It was so unfair that his voice was so calm when she felt so shaken, and it was only when she looked up to meet his eyes and saw the flash of gold pass through them that she realized he was just as affected by her proximity as she was by his.

He wanted her, and it sent a sort of thrilling shiver up her spine.

"That sounds interesting. Will you tell me about it?"

"I've been working on this translation for more than a decade now, and unfortunately the information remains incomplete enough that it's almost impossible to get a thorough picture. However, I can tell you of what I've gathered from it so far. It does seem promising in terms of the power it speaks of."

"Maybe I can help," she suggested impulsively. "I could learn to translate too."

The skeptical look he shot her made her frown, though he cleared his expression quickly, seeming to realize that she'd noticed. "It's quite a project to learn titanic runes," he said slowly. "It takes a lot of practice."

She drew herself to her full height, handing back the scroll. "I think I can handle it," she said coldly, and he grinned, dimples cutting into his cheeks.

"I have no doubt of that, Caroline. It's simply a lengthy endeavor."

"I think I can handle it," she repeated.

"Well then, far be it from me to stop you. Let me know if you require assistance."

"Doubtful," she said, and it only made him smile more.

It seemed that Niklaus was as irritating as he was attractive.

She often joined him in the Hall of Scrolls in the evenings after that, sometimes staying with him until the early hours of the morning. She would sit on the armchair across from him and ignore his attempts to engage her in conversation as she devoured everything he gave her. She could always feel him watching her as she studied, responding with chuckles when she snapped at him to please concentrate on his own work, though he never seemed to be the least bit offended. The rest of the year came and went, and she eventually did come across a passage where she couldn't figure it out. After two weeks of working on it she finally caved and asked Klaus for help.

It turned out he was a patient teacher, good at pushing her in the right direction so that it didn't feel like he was talking down to her. He often baited her into haughtily explaining something that she knew very well he already understood, but she felt like she had to because just hearing the wrong information come out of his mouth made her skin crawl. She still wasn't nearly at his level of proficiency in the language, but she was far enough that she could understand the gist of most of the things she picked up. So, when Klaus sat on the chaise looking at what seemed to be the same string of runes for over an hour, she was curious.

"What are you working on?"

"The final scroll in the tale explaining the battle against the Old Gods," he said quietly, his eyes flicking up and filling with warmth when he drank her in.

"Can I see?" she asked, holding out her hand, but he didn't hand it to her, instead nodding and moving so that there was space on the chaise for her to sit with him.

"So that you can look on as I translate," he said simply.

She looked at the spot next to him, barely large enough for her to sit without touching him, considering whether she wanted to join him. She knew the Old Ways of courting that those looking for mates adhered to, despite having lived only a century. This wasn't simply an invitation to share his knowledge, it was one to share his space. He was asking whether she was willing to give him the opportunity to hunt her, to convince her that he was the one who should hoard her heart.

She tried to remember whether she'd heard anything of Niklaus looking for a mate before. As far as she knew he'd mostly kept to himself. Some of the others had tried to catch his eye, but he'd been more interested in the scrolls and what they could bring him than any sort of courting. She knew he thought her attractive from the way he watched her with heated eyes, how his tongue occasionally darted over his lips when she looked up, his eyes flashing gold. But him actually asking to court her? What could she possibly offer him?

He was still watching her as she fought with herself, and his eyes were focused on her lips as she worried the bottom one between her teeth, thinking it over. His gaze moved up to her face, and where she expected lust and greed she also found what she could only describe as fascination. Want. Longing.

She felt it too, she realized, warmth building underneath her skin as they stared at each other, both unwilling to break the connection they'd walked into, and she knew that there was only one answer she wanted to give.

She sat.

 **XXX**

"It must have been fascinating to be alive before the containment," she said, looking wistfully out of the window.

The Hall of Scrolls was on the highest floor of the tower the flight occupied, and it gave a beautiful view of the lands below them, the ones he knew Caroline had never set foot on due to Mikael. He had, though, when he had been a whelpling. It was odd, how spending time with her had made him want more than just revenge. He wanted to give her everything she craved, to keep the treasures of every one of her smiles just for himself.

He often snuck out of the temple at night to get plants to crush for ink just to keep those smiles. It was dangerous, but he couldn't bear to go more than a week without drawing the outline of Caroline's face.

"It was," he said softly, admiring her profile, the late afternoon sun shedding light across her face through the window. "You would have loved it."

"Do you think?" she asked, giving him a brilliant smile.

"Yes."

"What would you be doing right now? If we could leave?"

"Be anywhere but here."

"Away from your scrolls?" she asked teasingly.

"You can't get all of your information from scrolls, sweetheart. Experience brings knowledge."

She'd stiffened at the petname, nibbling on her lower lip before tearing her eyes away, her hand reaching to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

They'd been dancing around each other for awhile now. She'd sat by him that afternoon as the sun set, her thigh pressing against his as she bent over him, the mouthwatering scent goldclover and sungrass wafting from her hair into his lungs. Since then she'd kept a careful distance, though she threw him inviting glances through long lashes, had gathered that he wanted her and let him slowly pull her in. It was a long and torturous game, one that left him aching for her whenever she left to bed, but he knew that when she gave herself to him, when she let herself be caught, it would all be worth it.

"Where did you go? Before the containment, I mean," she asked, her chin resting on her palm as she gazed out the window.

"Our flight explored all of Northrend."

"Which flight were you in?"

An odd pang of sympathy hit him when he realized that Caroline most likely didn't know the color of her scales, as she'd never had the opportunity to transform. He often was reminded of memories he took for granted that she didn't have, and it made him all the more determined to defeat Mikael so that she could be free.

"The Red Dragonflight."

"I wish I knew my flight," she said wistfully.

"Fiery, full of light and life? I wouldn't be surprised if you were red as well."

She scoffed at his blatant attempt at flattery, not that he expected any less. "You simply wish for me to be in your flight."

"Perhaps," he acknowledged, and a faint smile pulled at her lips, her cheeks going slightly pink as she glanced away at the window again.

"When you got to fly, did you have a favorite place to go?"

"Yes," he said, and she sat next to him, her thigh only inches away from his. He held her gaze for much too long to be casual, making him wonder, not for the first time, whether tonight would be the night she decided she'd had enough of the chase. That she was ready.

"Where?"

"Sholazar. My siblings and I used to fly there," he said. She often managed to coax out little details about his life before the containment, and the way the stories fell so easily from his lips surprised him every time. He hardly ever talked about his family, not wanting to relive the pain of their screams as their bones broke, the guilt he felt from being the only one to escape.

She didn't press, though, always seeming to know when he wasn't comfortable, instead nodding and asking a slightly related question about the legends associated with the waterfall in the center of the forest, and he all too happily changed the subject.

Over time her questions slowed down, her eyelids drooping, but she was quick to assure him that she was wide awake, asking him another question to keep him talking, despite her clear tiredness.

He noticed she'd fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning, her lashes brushing against her cheeks as her chest rose and fell, the rough fabric of the couch making an indent on her skin. He moved slowly as he got up, not wanting to wake her, and when he was certain she hadn't stirred he left to collect ink from his quarters.

An hour later he was still lounging on the chair beside Caroline as she slept, trying to recall every line and curve of her smile when he'd teased her earlier as his pen moved carefully across the paper, dragging the ink to outline her features.

He scrambled to close the scroll when Caroline woke, and she frowned, walking to him. "What's that?"

"Just a drawing," he said, and she ignored his attempts to hide it, snatching it out of his grasp, her eyes widening as she looked at what was on the paper.

"This is me," she said, her voice almost reverent. "You're drawing me."

"Yes."

"Why?"

He'd never seen her look so shy, so uncertain. Her face was normally expressive, her laugh offered to him freely and often, her hands waving in the air as she talked, or studying him with perceptive, interested eyes as she listened, but she looked guarded now. Nervous. He wondered if it was possible that despite all of the signals he gave her, the complete focus on courting her and winning her over, that the reason that she didn't give in when she clearly wanted to was because she still didn't quite believe him.

She inhaled sharply when he reached to stroke her cheek, but she leaned into his touch, her eyes closing for a moment before opening to stare at him. He'd never noticed the light dusting of freckles on her nose, had never had the opportunity to really feel her soft skin under his fingertips, to trace the line of her cheekbone with his thumb.

"Because I want to remember every smile you give me, every laugh. I want to memorize every inch of your skin, the furrow of your brow when you're irritated, the way your eyes spit fire when you throw yourself into debates. I don't want to lose those moments, so I keep them. Hoard them. I've given every signal I can that I want you to be mine. My mate. I'm simply waiting for you to let your fear wash away and give yourself to me."

As he watched her tongue dart over her lips he wondered for what felt like the millionth time how her skin would taste against his tongue, how her lips would part as he pressed kisses along her neck, what small noises of pleasure he could coax from her. He leaned closer until his nose brushed against hers, the sweetness of her scent in the air around him, and he felt his heart pound with anticipation as he hovered for a moment just a hair's breadth away. Waiting.

He heard her breath catch before she closed the gap between them to catch his lips with hers.

He matched her tenderness, his hand tangling in her hair as he pulled her close, and she responded immediately, sighing into the kiss, falling pliant in his arms. His sketch fell with a thump to the ground as her hands reached to tangle in his hair, a satisfied hum escaping her, and he watched as she pulled back, her lips slightly swollen, taking a few ragged breaths. He let his hand rest against her hip, tugging her to rest in his lap, and she gave him a radiant smile, her fingers fiddling with his hair. She kissed him again, tracing his collarbone with a finger, her movements tender and slow, before pulling back after a few more seconds, eyes dark.

"That's a yes, by the way," she said in what he suspected she meant to be a matter-of-fact tone, though the effect was slightly ruined by the breathy quality of her voice, the flush of her cheeks.

"I hadn't gathered. Perhaps you should have been a bit more clear."

She huffed, poking him lightly in the shoulder. "Careful or I might change my mind."

"I don't think I can allow that," he said with a grin, tracing her cheekbone with the tip of a finger before catching her lips again, dragging his teeth along her lower lip as he pulled away, delighting in the small shudder that ran through her. "Mine. My mate."

She glowered at him, though he saw the twitch of her lips as though she was fighting down a giggle. He couldn't help but revel in her touch, her taste. Everything about this moment was so much better than he'd imagined. He never wanted it to end.

But all stories have an ending, and nothing becomes legend without tragedy.

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I hope you guys liked this and I can't wait to hear your thoughts! Was it easy to follow? Do you like the premise? Do you like Klaus and Caroline's relationship? Any favorite lines or parts? Please let me know what you think. Reviews keep me motivated and help me get better! :D


	2. Part II: The Rebellion

Thank you so much for all the feedback so far. Thank you to garglyswoof for beta work! Enjoy! :)

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 _"Your blight ends here."_

* * *

Caroline giggled as Klaus flipped them over, his stubble scratching pleasurably against her neck with each kiss he pressed to her skin. Her hands wound into the back of his tunic as his palms settled on her hips.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, nipping her ear.

She flushed, arching her back as he ground his hard cock against her thigh, moaning softly as his fingertips made light, teasing circles between her legs. "Touch me," she demanded, rolling her hips, and she huffed when he chuckled, though he obligingly slid his fingers inside of her, her entire body trembling when his fingers brushed her clit.

She moaned into his mouth when he bent to kiss her, parting her lips invitingly for his tongue and rolling her hips when he tugged her lip between his teeth before nipping at her neck.

"I want you inside of me again," she gasped, trying to fight down the heat in her cheeks at his soft laugh, wrapping her hand around his cock and guiding him to her entrance.

He pulled his fingers away and sheathed himself inside of her, meeting her eyes as he began to move. His gaze was magnetic, and she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away, too entranced by how he looked at her.

It was late by the time she reluctantly left his bed, reminding him in hushed tones between tempting kisses that her family was nosey and she needed to be there when they woke to avoid questions.

She tried to keep her footsteps light as she made her way back to her family's quarters, wincing at the patch of sunlight already shining through a window. She was wary of her little sister, who was a light sleeper and an early riser. With a little luck, perhaps she wouldn't be caught.

Her hopes were unceremoniously crushed when she slipped through the wooden door to see her sister at the roughly-hewn wooden table, thistle tea clutched in her hands.

"You're up early," Camille said suspiciously.

"Good morning to you as well, little sister."

"Where were you?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

"The Hall of Scrolls," she lied.

"All night?"

"Obviously," Caroline dryly. "I should go to bed."

Camille frowned, inhaling slowly as Caroline passed by to get to the door to her chambers, and she gasped in the kind of overly dramatic way that made Caroline want to smack her. "You've had your first mating. I can smell him," she whispered, a smug smile spreading across her face. "Who is it?"

Caroline blushed brightly, unable to make eye contact with her sister. "None of your business."

"You and the scholar?" Camille pressed.

"None of your business."

"So that's a yes then?"

"Goodnight, Cami," Caroline said firmly, and Camille huffed, leaning back in her chair, toes curling against the cold stone floors.

"You never tell me anything."

"For good reason. You're a nosey gossip."

"I just _care_. Is that so wrong?" Camille asked with wide, too-innocent eyes.

"Yes," Caroline said grumpily. "My secrets are mine to hoard unless I wish to share them."

"But—"

"Good night, sister," Caroline said, emphasizing the note of finality as she walked into her bedroom.

It was an open secret that Klaus was courting her, but she still wanted to hoard their moments together, keep them private. The way Klaus had touched her the night before had made her back arch and her toes curl. He'd done the most sinful things to her body with his tongue, had growled sweet promises in her ear about how much better his claws would feel on the sensitive skin of her wings...

As they'd laid together twisted in his sheets, she'd felt the dragon that she'd never had the chance to free stir within her, content with her choice. She'd never felt more desperate to be free of the tower walls.

She wanted to stretch her wings and fly, wanted to explore every corner of the land that had been denied to her for her whole life.

And she wanted to do it with him.

 **XXX**

"We believe that Mikael will soon consume enough power to break down the barrier protecting us," Silas, the leader of the council of elders, announced to the dragons gathered in the lobby of the temple tower. "We have decided to relocate in hopes that he will turn his attention to other sources of food..."

As the elder continued to talk, Caroline felt her stomach clench in annoyance. She looked at Klaus, who had his fingers tangled through hers. He was watching the elder with an expression that would have looked blank to anyone else, but she could see the wariness in his eyes, the stubborn set of his jaw. She had to do something, to interrupt, and she steeled herself for the reaction that she knew would come before she opened her mouth to speak.

"We cannot simply move and hope the problem goes away," she interrupted, and the room fell deathly silent as everyone turned to look at her. Klaus had frozen beside her, though his hand was now clutching hers so tightly that it almost hurt from the pressure of it. She gathered all of her courage and pressed on. "Mikael will continue to grow in power, and the sooner we neutralize him, the sooner we can live in peace."

 _The sooner we can be free..._

Murmurs broke out among the crowd, and they parted so that the elder could approach her. She felt Klaus stiffen beside her, though he did not let her go, and for that she was grateful. She was slightly regretting speaking up when she saw the anger in the elder's eyes.

"Do you truly believe you know better than an elder ten thousand years your senior, little whelpling?"

Caroline felt her heart pounding, her cheeks flushing, but she stubbornly held the elder's gaze.

"Do tread carefully, Silas," Klaus said from beside her, his voice low and tinged with warning. "Caroline is young, but I was born barely a decade after the youngest elder. I too believe that we must kill Mikael before he grows even stronger than he already is."

"I need not tread carefully to avoid your wrath Niklaus. I am an elder, and my decision is final."

"Your friendship with my father before he grew corrupt is ancient history, Silas. Your nostalgia makes you weak."

"I do not care for that monster, Niklaus."

"Then kill him," Klaus growled, and Silas held his gaze for an uncomfortable length of time, the rage and hate thick between them.

"We leave for our new home in a year's time," Silas said firmly.

As the crowd dispersed, Klaus turned to her, body rigid, jaw clenched, and she could tell that he was angry, having learned to recognize her mate's body language in the hundred years they'd been together. His hand was hot against the small of her back as he walked with her to their rooms, the possessive stroke of his thumb against her spine a slight comfort considering his clear rage.

"Are you mad?" he hissed as soon as he closed the door to their quarters, and she felt her chest tighten.

"What?" she asked, her spine straightening as she stared him down. "Were you just defending me out of loyalty? Do you not agree?"

"Of course I do," he snapped, and she felt the tension leave her body despite his harsh tone. "There is no doubt in my mind that you speak the truth, sweetheart. I simply wish that you had waited until a more advantageous moment to voice your concerns. I'm sure they believe that we're planning a rebellion now."

"Well, they're not wrong," she said loftily, crossing her arms over her chest.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We need allies for a rebellion, love. It will take time to plan. Even then, the elders may not stand down. Are you truly prepared to do what is required to take command?"

She bit her lip, letting her eyes settle on the stone floor and shifting from foot to foot. Though Klaus had phrased it diplomatically, they both knew that the only way the elders would step aside for dragons they considered to be beneath them would be to force them. She knew that the needs of the many outweighed the arrogance of the few, and though she had been raised her whole life to defer to the elders, it was her flight they were putting in danger.

She met Klaus's eyes with determination, nodding slowly. "I am."

"You're sure?" he asked quietly, and she nodded, sinking down on their bed and shifting so that her back rested against the stone wall, her bare feet dangling off the edge of the mattress.

"I want freedom," she said simply, and he nodded, sitting down beside her, his palm resting on her thigh over her skirts.

"We can't do it alone," he said, and she could hear the reluctance in his voice at the admission. He loathed asking for help even more than she did.

"I know. Do you have any ideas for allies?"

"A few. You?"

"A few."

She laid her palm on his hand and let her head rest on his shoulder. Though the fight would be difficult, she had no doubt that it was the right thing to do. She couldn't let Mikael control the lives of her or her flight any longer.

 **XXX**

Klaus watched Matt with barely-concealed dislike as Caroline thanked him for coming with a bright smile and pulled him into a warm hug before directing him to one of the cushioned chairs in their sitting room. The two of them had been playmates as children, apparently, their mothers close friends, and though every instinct was demanding that he walk over and lay his hand on her back to remind the boy that she was his, he managed to refrain. Caroline knew very well who she belonged to, and he'd also been unnecessarily reminded that he was hers more than a few times when another woman got too close.

Though he and Caroline both excelled in many areas, sharing was not a skill that either of them had taken the time to perfect.

Still, as soon as she sat down he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his side, responding to her raised 'seriously?' eyebrows with a quick squeeze of her waist. Matt sat next to Camille, Caroline's sister, who always seemed to eye him with something between appreciation and suspicion.

While Caroline had been drawing in her sister and friend, he'd pulled aside Stefan and Damon and asked them to attend. He wouldn't call the brothers his friends by any means. Neither were particularly clever or sensible, and he found their almost incestuous loyalty rather trying, but they were Silas's grandchildren and both loathed him for killing their mother.

After Caroline had offered the group thistle tea (everyone declined politely), it was time to begin planning their strategy. Klaus had expected Caroline to easily agree to his plan. Yes, sending in the population as an army in one wave was risky, but the chance of success was high. There were a few hundred of them versus his father. With a little magical help, they'd easily succeed.

Unfortunately, he hadn't predicted correctly.

"We can't just go in with an army, Klaus," Caroline said exasperatedly. "It'll be too dangerous."

"Why not? As long as most live, we can repopulate."

"Yes, but we'll still lose the lives of people we love."

"And how are we supposed to sneak up on Mikael, Caroline? There's no way to know where he is, and sending scouts would be just as dangerous for them. The only thing we can do is have strength in numbers and know that he can't eat us all before we kill him."

Caroline scoffed, tossing her hair and glaring at him. "How exactly are we supposed to kill him with numbers, then? What's your grand plan?" Caroline asked, and Klaus shrugged.

"Even with all of his power, Mikael isn't invincible. We just have to injure him enough. It's not complicated. It'll just require a lot of dragons and some sacrifices. It's a numbers game, sweetheart."

The other four were watching their argument with interest as Caroline sat up straight and scooted out from under his arm so that she could face him more fully. "It's not a numbers game! These are our people, Klaus. You can't just send them off to be killed."

"It's the best way."

"No, it's really not, and I can't believe you'd seriously suggest it."

"What's your idea then, love?" he asked, and Caroline sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"I don't have one, but there has to be one better than that. Haven't you found anything from your research on the Titans?"

"Well, there are many spells that could potentially be helpful, but none that I've investigated thoroughly enough to be sure, or that do not come at an unpayable price."

"Like?" Caroline prompted.

Klaus sighed, reluctant to suggest the most powerful option, knowing that Caroline would most likely be willing to go through with it. "With help from those skilled with welding we could create a talisman of great power to suck the essence of his soul to destroy him."

"What's the price?" Damon asked, his brow furrowed.

"It would require as many of us as possible to contribute part of the essence of our souls. In order to control it, the talisman would have to be infused with soul magic. That sort of sacrifice provides great power, but it's permanent. It would make us vulnerable should the talisman be destroyed or fall into the wrong hands. I do not think it wise."

They all made murmurs of agreement, and Caroline laid a hand on his arm. "Are there any other possibilities?"

"It would also be possible to infuse an object, such as a crystal, to magically paralyze anything it touches for a few moments after being broken. That would not require the same sort of sacrifice, since it's simple magic. Just a few minutes of recovery after each casting to rest up. I do not know how many we'd need to immobilize Mikael for long enough to reduce the death count by a significant amount, and it would take a lot of time to produce enough for us to have a chance."

"We'll just try to create as many as possible before the move," Matt said, clearly latching on to the plan that didn't involve them giving up parts of their souls. "If we recruit enough of the flight and time the rituals well we should be able to create more without tiring out the flight before the battle."

"Not many people will be willing to help if it requires weakening their powers right before the elders have us set to move," Damon said grimly, and Stefan nodded in agreement.

"That's why we'll be replacing the elders and telling the flight that we're not moving," Caroline said firmly, and he had to suppress a smile at her certainty that it was doable.

Stefan and Matt didn't seem to be convinced, but Damon leaned back in his seat, a smirk twisting his lips. "I hope that by "replace" you mean "murder"."

He grinned as Caroline rolled her eyes with a bit too much drama for it to have been accidental. "No, we meant kindly ask them to give up their power," she said, the sarcasm heavy in her tone. "Obviously murder."

"Poison," Klaus elaborated. "I have herbs, and the three of us are next in line. I'm only ten years younger than the youngest elder, and you're from an unfortunate gene pool."

Damon seemed like he was about to object, but Matt talked over him, clearly sensing oncoming conflict.

"I'll try to recruit more of the flight," he said. "We have a year. It will go by quickly, but I should be able to organize enough of the flight by the end of the month, assuming the...replacement plan goes well."

Camille looked vaguely uncomfortable but nodded, shooting Caroline a questioning look, and Caroline gave her a reassuring smile before glancing at Klaus.

"All right. We'll start tonight, then."

The others left, and Caroline let out a sigh of relief after the doors closed. "I dislike Damon," she said bluntly, wrinkling her nose.

"As do I. His goals align with ours, however."

"For now."

He let his hand skim her hip, satisfied when she leaned against him for comfort, letting out a soft sigh, her eyes closing. He loved the way her reactions were all for him, how she trusted him and gave herself to him completely. She'd often given him chastising looks for show when they were in front of others and he brushed his fingers on her skin pointedly to mark his claim, but she still moved closer, pleased by his attentions.

She'd hesitantly asked him why he was always touching her one night, early on before she'd allowed him to call her _mate_ and when he still marveled at the vision of her body tangled in his sheets.

"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he'd murmured, stroking her hair.

"I do like it," she admitted after a moment. "I've been told it's natural to be protective of your... mate, to want to touch and claim. It makes me feel wanted."

A slow smile spread across his face at her declaration, and he could see the flush spread along her cheeks in the low, flickering torchlight.

"You agree, then? To be mine?"

He tried to conceal how much her answer would mean to him, the weight of the knowledge that she would willingly linger in his rooms.

"As long as you are mine, my mate," she answered, pointedly tangling her legs with his and looking at him. All he could do was drink her in, her eyes full of heat and need and pride.

Love.

 **XXX**

"Are you ready?" Caroline asked, gripping Klaus's hand like a lifeline and shooting him a nervous look out of the corner of her eye.

Once the elders had been unceremoniously disposed of (the flight's unexpected but welcome sigh of relief at the news bolstering their confidence), Caroline had managed to get everything organized as well as she could.

However, now that it was the moment of truth, she was more than a little nervous.

Klaus and a few other older dragons had led everyone to get the crystals, but once they had enough he sat in the Hall of Scrolls with Caroline, helping her translate texts and stroking her hair as they researched.

Matt had worked tirelessly to recruit people, and Camille and Stefan worked non-stop on the crystals. Damon had been generally useless, though he grudgingly helped when directly asked. They'd made as many crystals as they possibly could, and had countless meetings with those they'd convinced to join them. It had been a long and tiring process, but they were finally putting their plan into action.

"Yes."

She gave him a small, hesitant smile, standing in the front doorway of the temple before taking a deep breath and stepping outside into the sunlight. She could feel the heat of it on her skin, the sweetness of the outside air filling her for the first time, and she closed her eyes and willed herself to transform.

She felt her skin bubble as scales erupted, her bones twisting painlessly to new shapes, her body feeling like she'd woken up and stretched for the first time. She looked down at her clawed feet, her red scales gleaming in the sunlight, and she smiled.

She could feel Klaus's presence beside her, and his nose rubbed against her neck affectionately as she shifted, testing out the weight and feel of her new form. "This is amazing," she said softly, her voice low and rough from her dragon's throat.

"I knew you'd be red."

"You've mentioned that a few times," she said teasingly, bumping noses with him.

"Are you ready, Caroline?" Matt interrupted from next to her, his bronze scales glittering in the sunlight, and she nodded, stretching her wings out, beating them experimentally, her toes hovering a few inches from the earth for a moment before she touched back down.

"We will fight," Caroline said loudly, turning to face the rest of the dragons, slightly awkward on her feet in her unfamiliar form. The older dragons had already transformed, clearly relieved to be cloaked in their scales again. Some of the younger ones had followed suit, most trying to find their footing, and many still lingered in their human forms at the doorway. "We must kill Mikael to protect ourselves. You all know the plan?"

There were murmurs of assent, some dragons nodding while others simply stood silently, all clutching at least two enchanted crystals in their claws or hands. Caroline couldn't help but savor the cold wind swirling around her new wings, the sensation foreign and right. The dragons murmured in low voices as they waited, all of them rigid and alert, terrified but determined.

She turned to Klaus, about to ask how long he thought it would take for Mikael to realize that they were out of the tower when the thick stench of rotted meat hit her nose. Her stomach lurched, bile burning her throat, and she coughed as the sky darkened, Mikael's form looming in the sky, blocking out the light of the sun.

Mikael dived, snapping up one of the nearby dragons in his jaws, the bones crunching as he chewed, the dragon's wails of agony cutting off abruptly as Mikael swallowed. Caroline could hear the other dragons screaming in terror, but she almost felt like there was something stuffing her ears, muffling her hearing as she rose with a few unsteady beats of her wings to rise into the air.

She, Matt, Damon, Stefan, and Camille circled Mikael, Klaus and a few others lingering slightly below them, preparing to attack Mikael once Caroline had signaled for the flight to throw the crystals.

"Finally decided to stop being cowards and take down the barrier?" Mikael asked, his voice mocking.

"No. We're going to kill you so that we don't need it anymore," Caroline said, her voice reeking of confidence that she didn't really feel now that she was faced with the reality of the battle. "I won't let you turn my people into meals."

"And yet you've given me such easy access to them, little one," Mikael said, and Caroline dodged his claw as he reached to grab her.

"Don't touch her," she heard Klaus growl, feeling him fly to hover beside her, claws out, eyes fiery.

"Niklaus," he greeted, a twisted smile on his face. "How's your life alone suiting you? Thankful I didn't manage to eat you? Or wishing that you'd been consumed so you wouldn't have to live with the guilt of being the only one to survive?"

"He's not alone," Caroline snapped before thinking about it, and she saw Mikael's eyes light up, his teeth bared in a terrifying smile.

"So you finally found someone who wouldn't cringe at the idea of being near you, did you?"

Caroline growled low in her throat. Mikael was looking at Klaus, looking at her mate, in a way that made her feel incredibly protective. She wanted to rip his throat out for speaking to Klaus that way, and she tried to fight down the instinct.

She could disembowel him later.

For right now, she had to signal for the next phase of the plan.

"Of course I do not cringe. He is my mate."

"You have poor taste," Mikael said, and all Caroline could think as Mikael prepared to chase another dragon to eat was whether he was making food puns on purpose.

She waited until Mikael had turned away to dive for another dragon before she sent the signal to the flight, all of whom threw the crystals at Mikael's large body, making them crack all over his scales. There was a bright flash of light before Mikael froze mid-movement, plummeting to the snow-covered ground below, stunned for only a few precious seconds.

Caroline and the rest of the small group dove at him, claws out, teeth gleaming, and by the time Mikael was able to fight back, one of his wings was already badly mangled.

His eyes landed on her, and he reared back before moving to bite her in the leg. She was terrified, clumsily flapping the wings she'd never used to get away, and she felt his tooth graze her shin before Klaus roared so loudly that she flinched.

She was spiraling towards the ground, her inability to catch enough wind to rise making panic grip her. She heard Klaus and Mikael shouting, though in her panic she failed to make out the words.

Another loud roar sounded before she heard a disgusting squelch and the loud thump of a body hitting the snow, indicating that one of the two had gone down. She tried to swallow her fear that Klaus could have been the casualty, slowly forcing herself to look at who had fallen.

She felt an odd tightness at the back of her throat, the turn of her stomach making her gag, and she realized as she looked at the mangled corpse in front of her that this must be what nausea felt like.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Do you have any favorite parts or lines? Predictions? Constructive criticism? Please tell me in a review! They keep me motivated and make it easier for me to write more things!


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